The Question
by Macx
Summary: movie fic. After the events in Broken, after nearly dying, Trent had some time to think -- and to ask Sam the most important question of all. The answer isn't an easy one. Imperfection verse.


TITLE: The Question  
Based on events in Broken  
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation  
AUTHOR: Macx  
RATING: PG13  
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)  
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):  
The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are....  
FEEDBACK: Loved  
BETA: okami_myrrhibis

The day Trent was finally allowed home on his own was seven months after the attack. He had stopped counting how many operations had been performed and he tried not to think of what shape his leg was in. The scars criss-crossing his skin were by now almost a normal sight. They were also a reason not to wear short pants. He still limped and he needed a crutch, but he was stronger now, he had started to train, he was able to move on his own.

He wasn't surprised that it was Sam who picked him up from the rehab center on base grounds.

His apartment in Mission City had long since been cleared out and the contract canceled. He lived at the Autobot base, in human-sized quarters, like most of the soldiers permanently assigned to the alien mechanoids, and only a few still had living arrangements at Nellis. Those were the ones on rotating shifts or on temporary loan.

Trent would start work again in a week. He was on desk duty, had always been and would always be. The walking aid might still be a requirement for the next months, but it was hardly a handicap for him. He was actually looking forward to working again. There was only so much one could do to entertain oneself.

"Hungry?" Sam wanted to know after they had passed the sentry.

"No. Kinda. Not really. But caffeine would be appreciated."

Sam grinned. "Coffee shop stop?"

"If there's a muffin in there somewhere, yeah."

So they dropped by a privately owned coffee shop that didn't belong to any of the super-chains. It had great coffee as well as homemade pies and muffins. Both took their beverages and a load of baked sweets out onto the tiny back porch which was mercifully empty of other customers. Inside two families were wrestling with their respective toddlers over ice cream. The noise level had risen accordingly.

"Glad to be back?" Sam asked after he had cleaned away the double chocolate chip muffin.

"Yeah. I missed work, actually. WiFi's great company and the guys at the center helped, but it's nothing compared to real work," Trent told him, sipping at his extra strong coffee. He had gone for the plain version.

Sam nodded. He knew the feeling. His life was so very different now and he would miss it greatly if something cut him off from his work.

"Can I ask you something?" Trent suddenly said, voice serious.

Sam felt a tiny alarm go off, but he had no idea why. "Sure."

"It's about Barricade."

The alarm got louder and he felt Bumblebee's attention shift from the kids playing in the street not far away from where he was parked to the two men.

"What about him?"

"Why does he hate me?"

Sam blinked, looked at his half-eaten second muffin, then faced Trent's calm gaze again.

"Sam, please," the lieutenant added. "I know there's no love lost and if it wasn't for you guys working normally with me, I'd probably be roadkill. A drive-by victim. If I would ever be found. He hates me, I know it. I doubt it's because he's a Decepticon. I want to know what it is."

"Why now?" Sam asked quietly.

"Nearly dying has you reconsider your life," was the wry reply. "It gives you time to think. About your life, your family, your friends, your hopes and dreams, and about things I never gave much thought before. It never really mattered to me, but I'm curious now. And you know why."

"What makes you think that?"

"Sam, please! I'm not stupid," Trent stated firmly. "You're a technopath. You and Barricade trained together. You were in his head more than once."

Sam sighed. "Barricade… he's protective. He's a bad ass, I know. And he's dangerous. And his loyalty is only to Jazz. His alliance is an extension of that loyalty. I got into the mix early on, before the whole technopathy. I think back then he figured that if he protected me, he would gain a measure of trust and leeway, maybe get onto the Autobots' good side." He shrugged. "It's changed a lot since then and I'm not even sure Barricade knows just how deeply he's in it now. He risked too much to be just a fringe ally."

"Like almost getting himself killed?"

"Yeah. He claims it's for his own reasons, but it's not. Not any more." Sam played with a spoon. "I'm not sure why he had a special eye on me right from the start. I was terrified of him. I had killed Megatron. Barricade told me he was actually thankful for it. That he respected me. Megatron had promised never to harm Jazz and he had gone back on that promise when he had torn him apart. Barricade broke his alliance with Megatron at that moment."

Trent was listening, nodding, patiently waiting.

"Barricade saved me from a bunch of punks who had chased after me in senior year," Sam stated softly.

Trent frowned.

"They had ambushed me, got in some blows, then I ran. They went after me. Barricade saved my ass. They all had rap sheets as long as my arm." Sam looked into Trent's eyes. "You had sent them after me to rough me up for stealing away Mikaela."

DeMarco's eyes widened in realization. He leaned back, paling, hand clenching into the table cover.

"Oh god…" he whispered. "Sam…"

Sam waved his hand in dismissal. "It's been over ten years, Trent. And I never thought about it when you came here. Will actually told me that he considered hiring you for the base's logistics and he asked me if I had a problem. I told him then and I'll tell you again now: no. You never wanted to kill me. Those punks went overboard. I know losing Mikaela was a blow to your ego and I know you didn't like me back then."

"Sam…"

"No. It's the past. It's history. I consider you a friend now, Trent," Sam said honestly. "A good and trusted friend."

"I never wanted you dead!" Trent blurted. "I was angry, yeah. I hated your guts back then. But I wouldn't have…" He ran a hand over his face. "Oh shit…"

"Barricade took your actions personally. He… took revenge."

Trent swallowed. "The unpaid tickets? The trouble I got into?"

Sam nodded.

The blond laughed a little, sounding almost desperate. "And here I wondered…"

About bills from online auctions, online purchases and outstanding credit card amounts that had filled the post box. About the police questioning him concerning gang-related issues where his name had come up. About illegal music downloads and lawsuits.

All had come out of the blue.

"I'm sorry. Really. I never wanted this to happen, Trent. Barricade went overboard…"

"Because he's protective?"

Sam ducked his head and nodded. "For whatever reason. He always told me he couldn't care less about me, that I'm just a human, that I'm a tool."

Trent regarded him strangely. "Well, from what I saw in the past years, that's…" he shrugged. "I'd say he likes you a lot, but it's Barricade and I wouldn't want to guess about anything when it comes to him."

Sam shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah."

"Well, actually, all that got me on the right track," Trent told him, calming a little. "I went into the military, I have my career. Sure, it also got me nearly killed… but I survived."

"And you have friends."

Trent gave the other man a small smile. "Strange friends."

"Better than a strange family." Sam winced when those words were out. "Uhm, sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry." Trent waved the remark off. "My parents and I lost contact right after I went into the military. For good. All connections cut, all channels closed. I get no invitations to birthdays, weddings or funerals from any relative. The one and only time I sent a condolence card to my grandmother after my grandfather died it was returned."

"You might still be on speaking terms if not for me."

"Sam, the whole ugliness started when I was still in school. My father wanted me to be like him. I had my own ideas. You had nothing to do with it." Trent stirred his by now almost cold coffee. "I could never live up to the ideal my father had in mind for a son. Sooner or later things would have gone downhill anyway. Barricade's manipulations only sped up the matter – and freed me."

"I never wanted this to happen, Trent."

"Hey, I believe you." Trent smiled more. "You're a good guy. You always were. A geek, but a good guy."

"Gee, thanks."

"And now I'm part of something incredible. It's partly because of the ass-kicking I got."

"You nearly died because of it."

"Like I said, I survived. Water under the bridge, Sam." Trent emptied his cold coffee. "I'd really have to thank Barricade, come to think of it." He smirked. "But I've never been the suicidal type. Then again, Arcee might just kick his ass if he tried something."

Sam chuckled. "I'd kick more than his ass if he harmed my friends. But seriously, whatever happened, I don't want this to come between our friendship, Trent. I don't have many and I value those I can trust."

Trent smiled, eyes serious. "I'm honored to be considered such a close friend. I never did anything to earn that trust prior to coming here, so I was surprised when you so readily accepted my presence. Knowing what I do now, it was a big gesture on your behalf."

"Not as big as you might think. I'm not a teenager any more and compared to what we were facing back then, it wasn't even peanuts. It was laughable."

Trent massaged his damaged leg with one hand. "Do the others know?"

"Everything? No. Only Bumblebee, for obvious reasons. The others only know that we were school rivals over Mikaela. Even Mikaela has no idea what really happened."

Trent's eyes went to where the parking lot was just barely visible between the trees. Bumblebee's yellow paint job peeked out from underneath all the foliage.

"No hard feelings," Sam only said.

"No hard feelings," Trent echoed.

It had been ten years ago and the two men had worked side by side for the past two. Trent could see the truth in Sam's eyes, that this was history, and while it would take a while for him to digest this, he knew he couldn't let it come between their friendship. It was one he truly valued.

"Ready?" Sam asked.

He nodded and rose, using the walking aid sparingly. Bumblebee immediately opened the door to let him sit down.

"No hard feelings," the Autobot echoed what his partner had already said.

Trent smiled a little. "Thanks, Bumblebee."

Leaving the parking lot, Sam glanced briefly at Trent, who had his eyes closed, hand running over his thigh, massaging it.

::Pain?:: he asked Bumblebee.

The Autobot scanned. ::I detect an elevation in breathing and blood pressure. I think he has a spike of pain, but nothing alarming::

::Keep an eye on him::

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

They were at the base half an hour later and there had been no deterioration to Trent's condition. Sam got the bags out of Bumblebee's trunk, then the Autobot transformed. Trent had already soldiers flocking toward him, welcoming him back. Sam grinned to himself and handed the bag over to a private who offered to get it to the lieutenant's quarters.

Sam caught a tingle at the edge of his senses and looked over his shoulder. He caught the shadowy presence of Barricade. Red optics were watching the welcome.

::He's the good guy, Barricade:. Sam sent technopathically.

::That's to be seen::

::I forgave him for what he did. And he never wanted to kill me. We were both young and it was hormones::

Barricade didn't comment, but Sam felt the disapproval.

::When you hold a grudge, you hold a grudge, huh? Remind me not to get on your really bad side::

Barricade rumbled a little, sounding amused. ::You trust too easily:: he finally stated.

::Maybe you're just way too suspicious of everything::

::It kept me alive so far::

No argument there. But Sam trusted Trent. He had spoken the truth when he had told his friend that what had happened was a thing of the past. Forgive and forget.

Bumblebee sent agreement through the link. He had forgiven Barricade for his past attacks on his own person, though he couldn't really forget what the shock trooper had done before his alliance with the Autobots. But he had given him the benefit of a doubt, had even entrusted Sam into Barricade's protection and care.

::No one expects you to erase your memories of the war:: Sam agreed. ::But we can all change for the better or worse. Trent never intended to kill me.::

He let that sentence trickle over to Barricade as well. It didn't get him a verbal reply, just another rumble.

Trent had by now been ushered out of the general hangar area and Arcee had joined him. The troubleshooter looked happy and relieved. Sam stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking up at Bumblebee.

"He'll be fine," the mech only said.

Yes, he would.


End file.
